


Something New

by Writers_Dilemma



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/F, I can't get enough of these two, My First Smut, Shameless Smut, Yennaia, Yennefer x Tissaia, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Dilemma/pseuds/Writers_Dilemma
Summary: In which Yennefer and Tissaia end up at the stranger's table at a wedding, and sexy things ensue
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 23
Kudos: 108





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Yennaia piece, and also my first time writing smut, so go easy on me! Let me know what you all think, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Weddings were always a disgusting affair to Yennefer. The one she was currently attending was no less so, with all of the literal song and dance, fake smiles, typical catered food, and sappy speeches. Even worse, she was relegated to the misfits table: the one where all of the odd guests who didn’t fit anywhere else got stuck together. She wanted to vomit, and honestly, she wasn’t even sure why she was sticking around.

She swirled her watered-down cocktail around in its glass, gazing sourly up at the bride and groom’s table. Unsurprisingly, Yennefer was the only guest wearing black, and she didn’t give a damn about some of the looks that were being tossed her way. In fact, she relished them, returning said looks with a cold, venomous smile.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, and she didn’t even look over when she heard someone else sit down at the table. She took a long sip of her drink, wishing the damn bartender had put some real booze into it. Instead, her vodka cranberry was all cranberry and no vodka.

“They are a fetching pair, aren’t they?” a low voice mused her way. Yennefer hummed blandly in response. Her hazel eyes were still fixated on the couple, who were smiling broadly at each other, both looking like they had finally figured out the true meaning of happiness. She supposed that they had.

“You’d think you ought to be able to drunk at a wedding when you order straight alcohol, but I swear even that has been watered down,” the voice commented again in her direction.

Yennefer snorted through her nose in mild amusement, and finally looked over at her table companion. It was the woman who had sat in utter silence through the whole dinner, only politely clapping at the end of every speech. She didn’t even laugh at a single one of the myriad forced, comedic anecdotes that found their way into every single weeding speech ever.

The woman was of a short, petite build, and she was older than Yennefer. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a tasteful bun, and it drew attention to the woman’s severe, hard-set jaw. Her eyes were narrow, their azure color hiding something a little darker. Yennefer’s eyes lingered little too long on her lips, which were a pale pink, and thin, drawn into a wry smile.

Shaking herself free of the distraction, she responded, “Yeah, well, I guess we should have expected that even the expensive weddings would skimp on the alcohol.” Her eyes dipped down to the brunette’s chest, where she noticed the woman’s hand had come up to fiddle with an odd pendant hanging from a heavy chain around her neck.

Awkwardly realizing that she was ogling the elegant woman before her, she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “Sorry, I’m Yennefer. Yennefer Vengerberg. I don’t think we were introduced earlier.”

“Tissaia de Vries,” the other woman offered pleasantly, and Yennefer raised her glass in a mock toast.

“So, what are you doing stuck at this table? Distant friend? Obligated invite?” The younger woman typically hated making small talk, but any distraction from the wedding couple was welcomed in her book.

“I was Istredd’s professor at university,” Tissaia said mildly. “I took him under my wing, never let the little bastard get away with anything, and then I molded him into the success he is.”

Yennefer’s eyes shot up to the brunette’s at the mention of the groom’s name. She saw pride coloring the older woman’s face, and suddenly she wanted to punch her for it. Except, when she tried to imagine her fist colliding with the older woman’s gorgeously-defined jaw, all her mind could conjure was their mouths clashing instead.

Trying to shake the image from her mind, Yennefer knocked back the rest of her sad drink. Just as she set her glass down, the clinking of utensils against the guests’ own glasses sounded around the banquet hall, and her attention was immediately pulled to the happy couple again. Both of them pretended to look sheepish, offering embarrassed smiles, but their eagerness was apparent in their kiss. Yennefer scowled darkly, unable to hold back another irritated sigh.

“What an appalling tradition, no?” Tissaia’s even, slightly-husky voice remarked coolly.

The younger woman merely grunted affirmatively in response. She became aware that the brunette was studying her face closely, without betraying anything she was thinking. Her palms suddenly started sweating under the scrutiny of those blue eyes, and she started messing with her black curls, despite the fact that they were perfectly-set.

“And you?” the brunette asked. “Why are you stuck at the strangers table?”

“Relation to the bride, I’m afraid.” Yennefer did her best to sound carefree, but try as she might, she couldn’t keep the darkness from her eyes. When she met the brunette’s own cerulean gaze, she noticed that the woman was clearly expecting her to elaborate. She bit the corner of her mouth, and said, “Sabrina is my step-sister.”

“Oh… _oh._ ” Tissaia said, clearly taken-aback.

“Yeah, well, we’re not really close,” Yennefer remarked humorlessly. “Hence the weirdos table, no offense,” she hastily tacked on.

“None taken.”

“In fact, I don’t even know why I was invited,” she huffed out in a sudden fit of honesty. Even though it made her uncomfortable seeing that the other woman was still studying her with that same measured look, she couldn’t help but find herself craving it a little bit.

“I imagine it had something to do with the groom.” Yennefer tossed out as casually as she could.

“What would Istredd have to do with-” Tissaia cut her own question off, her eyes widening in shocked realization.

“Yeah,” the younger woman confirmed. “I’m the groom’s childhood friend, high school sweetheart, college fiancée, and now, his step sister-in-law.” The words were bitter in her mouth, and she hated how vulnerable she felt. The older woman was peering at her with something akin to pity, and Yennefer hated how she made her feel naked under those blue eyes.

She looked down at her empty glass, frustrated at the lack of alcohol in it, and she got up without warning. Not meeting Tissaia’s disarming looks, she left, muttering something about how she needed to find a groomsman, because they would probably have a flask. She hurried away from the table, as well as the woman who spoke so few words, but pried so many feelings from a place Yennefer had thought she had buried.

As it turned out, it was the wedding band’s singer who had the hard stuff. Jaskier was on break, hanging outside the banquet hall, smoking a joint, and scribbling fragments of lyrics down on a notepad. When she asked him if he had anything other than weed after he offered her a toke, a playful smile spread across his boyish face. He produced a very full flask, and gleefully offered it to her.

“Fucking hell!” Yennefer spluttered. “What _is_ this?”

“Grain alcohol and grenadine,” the singer replied nonchalantly.

“Well, it’s shit,” she said, but took another long drink anyway.

“Yeah, it is shit. But, it’s shit that’ll fuck you up fast and hard. Weddings are for drama, getting drunk, and getting fucked,” he said, taking a drag off of his joint. “Speaking of, I noticed you showed up stag.” His eyes raked Yennefer up and down, and he started talking again despite the disgusted look she threw his way.

“Darling, no. You are most definitely _hot,_ but my tastes run a bit more…masculine, shall we say? Also, I _love_ the black dress. Classy, but still making a statement that _you_ don’t want to be here, around all of these poor saps.” He took his flask from Yennefer’s fingers, and took a long sip, screwing his face up at the revolting drink.

“How can you tell?”

“No one, not even one as stunning as you, shows up to a wedding they don’t want to be at, in a black dress, _without_ a date. Which means…you are heartbroken. If you were here out of spite, you’d have the good graces to show up with some dumb-as-bricks, Calvin Klein model on your arm to make…” he squinted his eyes at her. “The groom jealous. Am I right? I usually am.” He looked her up and down again, with a knowing look in his eyes. She threw several curses at him, and snatched the flask back, muttering about how she was too sober for this.

Jaskier put out his joint, stowing the roach in a little bag that he had tucked away into his blazer. Much to Yennefer’s dismay, he also stowed the flask as well.

“Listen, Love,” he started. “I have to get back to the stage, but you need more than a drink. You need a date, and hopefully, a good fuck.” The woman scoffed in offense, but the singer held up a defiant finger. “I don’t want to hear a peep out of you about this. I know just the bachelor to take your mind off things. He doesn’t talk much, he knows that casual sex is just casual, and he is about 200 pounds of pure, _rugged_ beefcake,” he said with misty longing in his eyes.

Jaskier proceeded to practically throw Yennefer at the man he described, and then hurried off to the stage, deftly putting in eye drops so he wouldn’t look as stoned as he was. The man was called Geralt, and the singer’s description did not disappoint. He was, without a doubt, a sumptuous sight. Except, Yennefer couldn’t quite get into his long hair, so blonde it was almost white, pulled into a half ponytail.

To his – and Jaskier’s – credit, the man really didn’t talk much. He seemed to be a little awkward in his suit, but he was a more than competent dancer, and Yennefer didn’t protest the racier dancing they engaged in. She supposed that the damn singer’s grain alcohol had worked a little too well, and when she looked up at him, he winked at her.

After several hours of dancing, and drunken flirting, she could tell that Geralt’s intentions were far more intimate than she liked. She bitterly admitted to herself that the temptation to have Istredd see her leave with the Adonis that was grinding into her ass was stronger than she liked, but the thought of having a sweaty, hulking man moving in and against her made her stomach turn.

Something seemed to tingle at the back of her neck, and she angled her dance partner so she could look in the direction the feeling was coming from. Her eyes locked with Tissaia’s. The brunette was leaning against the bar, a nearly-empty drink her pale hand. When she felt Geralt grind up against her again, her mind was flooded with images of a petite woman’s hips sliding sensually against her own. Yennefer licked her lips, and shot a sultry smile at the woman who hadn’t broken eye contact with her.

She thought she saw Tissaia bite her pale lip, and her free hand came up to play with her pendant again. Still, the brunette refused to look away, and Yennefer, egged on by the alcohol in her brain, dipped her torso down, thrusting her ass against Geralt’s crotch. The position offered up a sumptuous view of her cleavage to her blue-eyed voyeur.

The older woman visibly licked her lips, and she slammed the rest of her drink down. Giving no further reaction, she turned and left. Yennefer’s heart sank in confusion, but she was distracted by Geralt spinning her around so they could face each other again.

She desperately tried to focus on the man in front of her, but she couldn’t get the images of Tissaia pressed against her back, sweet breath caressing her ear, out of her mind. Yennefer cursed the sensations the thoughts wrought between her hips, and without a word, she pulled away from her dancing partner. She left the hall at a near run, kicking off her stilettos on the way out, so she could hurry across the grass to the distant tree line. She didn’t stop moving as fast as her dress would allow her until she was under the forest canopy.

Panting slightly, she leaned her back heavily against a tree. She screwed her eyes up tight, gritting her teeth. Why? Why did she have to come to this stupid event? Why did she torture herself this way?

“Well hello again,” came a familiar, smooth voice from a tree nearby.

“Fuck!” Yennefer cried, completely startled.

“Apologies,” the other woman offered. “I didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

When Yennefer looked to her left, she saw Tissaia leaning ever so casually against another tree. To her surprise, the woman had a small pipe playing gently between those thin lips of hers. A small, inscrutable smile played about her mouth, and it made Yennefer annoyed for some reason.

“What is it about weed and weddings?” Yennefer said in exasperation, thinking back to Jaskier’s ‘smoke break.’ “People apparently can’t endure these things without being stoned,” she said with surprising venom. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to lash out at someone who had done nothing to her, but the alcohol wasn’t helping her think clearly.

Eyeing her own pipe, Tissaia held it up slightly. “My dear, this isn’t weed.”

“Oh,” Yennefer said, blushing slightly. “I should’ve guessed by the smell. I didn’t think that women smoked-”

“Pipe tobacco? Yes, it’s not a common practice, but I suppose I make it a point of mine to do the uncommon.” The brunette’s voice was plain, but there was an air of confidence to her words.

Drunk and intrigued by the curious woman, Yennefer drifted over to where Tissaia was standing. She leaned on a tree opposite her so they could face each other. The second she started moving, she saw the smaller woman’s free hand drift up to her necklace again. Finally getting a good look at her elegant companion, she drank in a luscious sight.

Even without her heels on, Yennefer stood several inches taller than Tissaia. The brunette wore a simple, but elegant dress of deep, emerald green. It brought out the verdant hues hiding in her azure eyes. The neckline of the dress dipped low, revealing slightly-flushed, pale skin and tasteful cleavage. Yennefer’s throat went dry.

The silver chain and pendant were the only things accenting a slender neck, and she watched a little more intensely than she meant to as the older woman’s pulse point thudded erratically. Simple gold earrings hung from delicate earlobes, and Yennefer instantly had thoughts of her own lips replacing the jewelry. Why did alcohol make her so emotional _and_ horny?

Several small locks of hair had escaped Tissaia’s bun, and the wind was causing them to tickle at the hard edges of the woman’s face. Yennefer wondered if that hair felt as silky as it looked. Fuck. Her hazel eyes became transfixed on Tissaia’s mouth yet again.

“Hello…?” The younger woman was suddenly snapped from her reverie, a deep blush creeping up her cheeks. She had been aware that the brunette was saying something, but the whole time she saw those pale lips move, she just wondered to herself how they would taste against hers.

“Huh? I’m sorry, did you say something? My bad.” _My bad?_ Yennefer mentally kicked herself for her awkwardness, and she hoped that Tissaia would just chalk it up to her being drunk – which was true. 

“I asked if you were cold,” the woman stated, her eyes lingering on all of Yennefer’s exposed skin. The dress she wore was understated in the best of ways. The black fabric draped effortlessly over her body, with a neckline that plunged all the way down to her navel, and delicate chains crossed the gap all the way up. Her back, on the other hand, was completely exposed, leaving nothing for the imagination.

When Yennefer looked down at herself, she saw that her arms were covered in goosebumps, and her nipples shamelessly stood out against the whisper-thin satin of her dress. Her chagrin rose, and she pretended that it was, in fact, the early evening chill affecting her body. She felt Tissaia’s eyes move across her figure when she crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to ward off the cold.

Again, the two women’s gazes locked, neither sharing a word. Yennefer tried to discern the look in her companion’s eyes. She thought, to her surprise, that it looked like curiosity. Then again, she thought a hint of hunger might have been lingering in those blue depths. The thought of the latter being the case made her shift slightly, and the heat rising in her veins did nothing to abate the feelings her body was betraying.

Desperate to break the silence, she blurted out, “Maybe a drag from your pipe would warm me up.” She tried to hide her embarrassment, but the woman opposite her let out a soft chuckle, an amused smile playing about her lips.

“Have you ever smoked tobacco before?”

“I’ve had a few cigarettes when I was in college.”

“ _This_ ,” Tissaia gestured to her pipe. “Is _not_ a cigarette. I don’t think you will enjoy spending the rest of your evening coughing your lungs out.” Almost as if to taunt her, the brunette took a long drag, inhaling deeply. She let the smoke snake from those damn lips, filling the air between them. An impulsive, drunken, horny idea popped into Yennefer’s hazy brain.

“You could shotgun it to me,” she said, surprised at how low her own voice came out.

“I beg your pardon? What on earth is that even supposed to mean?” The line that formed between Tissaia’s eyebrows as she tried to puzzle out the younger woman’s offer made Yennefer smile.

“You know…” Yennefer moved off of her tree, and began, without thinking, to close the space between them. “You inhale off of your pipe, and then-” She paused, now directly in front the woman opposite her. She looked down through her lashes, feeling bold. It didn’t escape her notice that, during her approach, the brunette’s fingers jumped up to her pendant again.

She leaned in, perhaps a little too close than would be appropriate, and caught her first hint of Tissaia’s perfume. It was light, floral, fresh, like a soft, Spring breeze. She caught hints of clean jasmine in the scent, and it made her mouth water.

“Then what?” came the breathy response. Tissaia’s blue eyes kept drifting from Yennefer’s hungry look, to the plump, scarlet lip that was unconsciously pinched between her teeth.

“You blow it back into my mouth,” Yennefer whispered silkily.

Tissaia’s unconsciously licked her lips, her breathing less even than she remembered it being. Yennefer was barely a breath apart from her, and the delicious expanse of olive skin displayed before her left her throat dry and her yearning. “ _Fuck_ ,” came the weak response from her throat, and a dangerous smile covered the younger woman’s ravenous face.

Without another word, the brunette brought her pipe to her lips, taking another long drag, never breaking eye contact with the alluring woman who was so intimately close to her. When she pulled it from her lips, she made a show of pulling the smoke pooled in her mouth into her lungs through her teeth.

Yennefer had completely given up on trying to hide the effect it was so obviously having on her. Seeing the younger woman’s anticipation made Tissaia shiver with a wave of intense desire.

Yennefer leaned her face down to Tissaia’s, both of their lips parted, almost touching. Suddenly, Yennefer felt a blast of air, and then she drew in the smoke billowing across her mouth. The taste was richer, and more earthy than that of a cigarette. It was colder too, tempered by the other woman’s breath. It slid smoothly down her throat, and she hummed in approval.

Neither moved to create more space between them. Both women peered lustfully at each other through heavy-lidded eyes, but there was still hesitation in the air. Yennefer’s body was no longer the only one giving away her arousal, and she could feel a tremble slide through Tissaia’s slender figure.

“Oh, fuck it,” Yennefer breathed out, releasing the smoke from her lungs. She closed the minute gap between them, claiming Tissaia’s mouth in a confident, but reserved kiss. She hoped against hope that whatever she was feeling was being shared by the body pressed against hers.

Tissaia inhaled sharply through her nose, her shoulders tensing up. She knew she wanted this, and the fire raging between her legs had been brewing ever since she saw Yennefer practically having sex on the dance floor with that hulking oaf of a man, all while fixing her with a stare of brash lust. Tissaia remembered wishing she was the one the sable-haired beauty had been pressing her delectable form against.

In fact, it was the entire reason she had ventured out to the woods in the first place. She could no longer withstand watching them after Yennefer had bent over, intentionally revealing her exquisite body. Unbridled need coursed through her veins, and Tissaia fled. She figured being able to smoke in isolation would calm her aching desire, but the very object of that desire just so happened to stumble into her little bubble of peace shortly after.

Tissaia dropped her shoulders, and her pipe. One of her hands snaked unconsciously around the waist of the woman pressed flush against her. The black satin quickly gave way to the naked expanse of Yennefer’s back, and a small, desperate moan escaped her throat. Without another thought, she deepened the kiss, using her free hand to find purchase on the back of the raven-haired woman’s neck, keeping their mouths firmly locked together.

It was Yennefer’s turn to moan, when she felt Tissaia’s trepidation melt into a passionate embrace. She didn’t realize just how much she had wanted what was happening until she felt the gentle brush of the brunette’s tongue against her lips. Her eyes rolled back into her head, giving herself over to the bliss that was consuming her.

The slender fingers that were cupping Yennefer’s neck suddenly found themselves tangled in her dark hair, yanking her head back with surprising force. She hissed in pleasure, her own hands cradling Tissaia’s head as the other woman began trailing kisses down her neck. Another hiss was coaxed from her when she felt tender lips replaced by sharp teeth.

Tissaia kissed and nipped her way down the expanse of warm skin on offer. She stopped just above the swell of Yennefer’s chest, just short of where the chains on her dress started.

Without a moment of reluctance, Tissaia moved her mouth up to her lovely partner’s ear, whispering hotly, “You are the single most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life.” She pulled away enough for both of their eyes to meet, looking for any sign of a reaction.

“Does that make you want to have me,” Yennefer breathed out, arching and eyebrow at the small woman she had pressed up against a tree.

“Yes,” was the only word Tissaia could barely eek out, and she briefly wondered if one could pass out from arousal.

_“How badly?”_

_Fuck._

“I would do _anything_ you fucking wanted, if it means I get to have you right now.”

“Anything?” Yennefer husked against her ear, delicately dragging her tongue around its shell. She smiled to herself when she felt the brunette shiver against her.

Tissaia’s affirmation was little more than a lustful groan, and her hands immediately cupped Yennefer’s face, guiding her into another kiss. It was much more dominating, their hands roaming each other’s bodies with blissful abandon. Yennefer had to tear her mouth away to catch her breath, tenderly wetting her kiss-bruised lips.

Panting and pressing herself more firmly against the brunette, she said, “You can have me, as much of me as you want, _if_ ,” she paused for emphasis, “I get to have you first.”

Tissaia swallowed hard, and she thought her knees might buckle under her. Her answer was a physical one, urgently bringing their mouths together again. She took one of Yennefer’s wrists, and guided the delicate hand to her chest, their shared moans tangling together at the contact.

Wordlessly, Yennefer sank reverently to her knees, and she delicately pulled aside the green silk demurely covering swells of soft flesh. Yennefer greedily took one of Tissaia’s pink nipples into her mouth, using her hand to gently tweak the other between her fingertips. She heard the sound of nails scraping into tree bark, and she felt the body she was ready to ravish shudder and struggle to remain upright.

Yennefer felt fervent fingers tangle into her hair, and strangled whimpers sounded from above. It occurred to her that she never wanted to hear anything other than those needy moans for the rest of her life. Her hands moved of their own accord, lifting Tissaia’s skirt above her hips. She felt her lover’s fingers release her scalp. The brunette had grabbed hold of the bottom of her dress, holding it up in place for her willing partner.

Yennefer didn’t even need to see the woman’s sex to know just how hot she was. She could smell her lust, and she urgently ripped away the lace covering what she was desperate for. Hungrily, she lunged her face forward, and she heard a yelp from the brunette.

Tissaia’s arms immediately rose above her head, fruitlessly hoping to find a grip on the tree trunk. Her knees went weak, and her eyes rolled back, as a guttural groan tore itself from her chest. The younger woman was so very eager, and _talented_.

Yennefer’s hands had come up to grip Tissaia’s ass, and she dug her nails into the brunette’s heated flesh, scraping downward. Tissaia’s cry was animalistic, and one of her hands shot down to raven locks again. After several minutes of tantalizing licking and sucking, Tissaia desperately pressed the younger woman’s face against her, silently begging for more. Yennefer was only too willing, and, after sliding her tongue along Tissaia’s entrance once, moaning at the taste, she plunged her tongue in. 

Tissaia’s climax ripped violently through her, her body trying to fold in on itself. Her hips thrust wildly into Yennefer’s mouth, and she felt her vision grow dark for several moments that stretched on for a lifetime. Yennefer continued to lick and suck at Tissaia’s heat, but it was much gentler, letting the older woman ride out her orgasm.

The second the contractions stopped rolling through her, Tissaia firmly, but gently, pushed her partner away, panting out a ragged, “ _Stop._ ” Her body was screaming for more, but she knew she couldn’t handle it in that moment.

Immediately, Yennefer created space between them, and her eyes were searching the brunette’s with concern. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” It was a loving inquiry, and Tissaia felt herself swoon a little.

“Yes, I am okay, Yennefer,” she breathed out softly. “I just – need to – catch my breath…” She smiled at the woman to reassure her. “I don’t know if anyone has ever made me cum that hard before.” She straightened up, but continued to use the tree for support. She smiled when she saw the smug pride on her companion’s face.

“I take it that I didn’t disappoint?” The question was redundant, and Yennefer knew it.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, dear,” Tissaia said, regaining some of her composure.

“Make me,” the young woman teased.

It was all the prompting Tissaia needed. She deftly swept the arrogant woman up in her arms, and maneuvered their bodies so that Yennefer was pressed face-first against the tree and the brunette to her back. Yennefer swore gruffly, but there was velvety-heat to the curses.

“If you insist,” the older woman growled into her lover’s ear. She wasted no time in allowing her hands to immediately begin exploring the delicious body at her fingertips. She intended to use ardent touches, to let the other woman know the voracity of her desire. Instead, her fingers traced feather-light lines across skin that was breaking into goosebumps again.

Yennefer’s hand snaked around behind her, finding Tissaia’s head. She twisted her body so that she could bring their mouths together again in a fevered kiss. Her thighs began to tremble when she felt the brunette’s hand seeking out the slit in her dress, eager for a way under the fabric.

Tissaia couldn’t help but groan with her own pleasure when she realized that Yennefer wasn’t wearing a damn thing under that salacious dress of hers. Her fingers found the younger woman’s core, drenched with desire. Once again, Tissaia thought she would show the woman the intensity of her need, but her own fingers decided to play a delicate dance instead. 

“You are so very _wet._ ” Tissaia said, her own heat throbbing at the sensation.

“All for you…Fuck! That feels so good. Please, don’t stop…” Yennefer’s moans were a constant mix of mewling cries, and breathy swears. Tissaia smirked to herself at the effect she was having on the dark-haired woman, reveling in the way Yennefer clung to the tree for support.

One of Yennefer’s hands flew down between her legs, firmly pressing Tissaia’s fingers against her throbbing sex. When she ground her hips down into the teasing fingers between her legs, Yennefer desperately hoped that she conveyed her need to the brunette.

Tissaia, immediately understanding the gesture, nimbly slid two of her fingers into Yennfer’s soaked opening. Both of them groaned in satisfaction, and the brunette used her free hand to delicately fondle her lover’s chest.

The younger woman cried out with every thrust of Tissaia’s fingers, still using her hand to press the brunette’s against her, irrationally afraid that the older woman might stop at any moment. Yennefer felt teeth begin to nibble at the skin between her shoulder blades, and then they dissolved into soft licks and suckles at her stinging flesh. Yennefer’s cries of dissolute pleasure echoed through the trees, and the older woman wondered for a moment if the wedding guests had heard any of it. She found out that she didn’t care, and a part of her even wished that maybe someone would find the two of them in the throes of passion.

The younger woman bucked violently into Tissaia’s thrusting fingers, and it became apparent that she was close to cumming. Yennefer kept trying to choke out curses and words of pleasure, but they always came out as fragments when another thrust from the brunette’s fingers stopped her voice in her throat. The raven-haired woman suddenly drew in a shuddering breath of air, and then her entire body seized up. Tissaia felt Yennefer’s walls clamp down on her fingers, and a gush of wetness slid down them.

The younger woman’s hand shot out behind her, clumsily lacing through the brunette’s tight bun. She pulled Tissaia as firmly against her as she could, waves of satisfaction wracking her slender frame.

Once she was sure Yennefer’s orgasm had subsided, Tissaia carefully pulled her fingers out, allowing the younger woman to turn around and face her. Looking purposefully into hazel eyes, Tissaia brought her fingers up to her mouth, and began slowly licking off every drop of nectar clinging to them.

“You taste so good…” she said lasciviously. “I wouldn’t want to waste a single drop.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” the dark-haired woman managed to grunt out. She grabbed the brunette’s hand, and immediately thrust it between her legs again.

Tissaia didn’t even twitch her fingers, choosing not to give in to the needy goddess before her. Rather, she fixed her partner with a carnal look. “Do say please, dear.”

“Fuck, Tissaia-” but Yennfer’s voice crumbled into a throaty groan. Hearing her own name whispered so wantonly almost made Tissaia’s resolve break, but her pride kept her from giving in.

“You got to do that earlier, dear. I said, say _please._ ” Her voice dripped with honeyed dominance, and she relished the feeling of the younger woman squirming against fingers that were still firmly pressed against her.

“Tissaia,” Yennefer whispered again, her eyes locked onto blue ones. “Please, I need you.”

The brunette thought she might cum again on the spot, but, by some miracle, she managed to hold her composure. Mostly. Her lips parted, and as she again slipped her fingers into her nubile lover’s slit, they both swallowed each other’s moans in an impassioned kiss.

* * *

The sun was almost below the horizon, painting the sky in rich purples and blues and oranges. The two women were on the ground, using their now-dirty dresses to lie on. Yennefer’s fingers were lazily tracing the curves of Tissaia’s body, as though trying to memorize every rise and fall of porcelain skin. She looked dreamily at the brunette, a content smile warming her eyes.

Tissaia was lightly combing her fingertips through onyx locks of hair. She pulled the other woman closer to her, trying to ward off some of the evening’s chill. She placed soft kisses on Yennefer’s head, before drawing her mouth into an embrace so tender, it felt like a confession of love.

“Please tell me none of this was a dream,” the younger woman murmured into the brunette’s neck.

“Of that, I can assure you it was not,” Tissaia said playfully. Her eyes were met with worried ones, though.

“I’m serious. Tell me now, was this just a one-time fuck for you?”

Tissaia frowned to herself, carefully thinking over the other woman’s words. “You felt something?” she questioned.

“You didn’t? ‘Cause it didn’t feel like we were just fucking. What we just shared…that was something _more._ Or am I just being crazy and clingy?” Yennefer’s gaze was open, vulnerable. The brunette felt herself melt.

“Yennefer, whatever happened tonight…” The words were catching in her throat. “You’re right. It wasn’t just sex. I don’t know what it was, but I do know that I want to find out” Tissaia replied, her voice low and reassuring.

They smiled softly at each other, neither willing to let the other go. Their lips locked once more in a sweet kiss. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of promises, of futures, of passion and need. It was the kind of kiss that was, perhaps, the start of something new.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! You can find me on Tumblr at writers-dilemma


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